Bill Pepper sat on a hard, straight-backed chair in a room furnished only with a desk and two chairs at the Markstown police station. He had been taken from a cell and placed there nearly an hour before, then left alone. He resisted the temptation to go through the drawers of the desk. The chair was extremely uncomfortable, and he frequently stood up and stretched, but he always sat down again. He had been trained to assume that when being detained anywhere in the world, he would be watched and listened in on.

The door opened and a man in a business suit, but no necktie, walked into the room and sat down. He placed a file folder on the desk, opened it and read from it for several minutes before he spoke. “I am Colonel Croft, of the home secretary’s office,” he said, finally, in his slightly French accent.

“Of course, Colonel,” Pepper said pleasantly. “Everyone knows who you are. How do you do?”

“I do very well, thank you, which is more than I can say for you, Mr. Pepper. You have committed very serious crimes against the people of St. Marks.”

“If you’re referring to the several speeding tickets I’ve been given over the past year, I assure you they have all been paid, and I have adjusted my driving habits so that I am always within the speed limits.”

“You know very well what I am referring to,” Croft said.

“I’m afraid I don’t, Colonel. Where is my wife? May I see her?”

“I haven’t decided,” Croft said.

“I assure you my wife is entirely a law-abiding resident of St. Marks.”

“Does your wife have computer skills, too, Mr. Pepper?”

“She can just barely handle e-mail, I’m afraid.”

“But you-you are an absolute whiz with computers, aren’t you?”

“I’m the chief technology officer for the casino,” Pepper replied. “Computers are an important part of my job.”

“Describe your duties, please.”

“As chief technology officer, I write or supervise the writing of computer software which allows people all over the world to participate in online gaming, thus injecting many millions in tax dollars into the economy of St. Marks. May I call my boss, the chief executive officer of my company, please?”

“No, you may not,” Croft replied. “What is your interest in Mr. Pemberton and Mr. Weatherby and Mr. Robertson?”

“I’m sorry, I’m not acquainted with anyone of those names.”

“Then why were you attempting to obtain information about them from the computers at the Department of the Interior?”

“Colonel, it is a legitimate part of my work to obtain information about clients and prospective clients, but the only reason I would have to obtain any information at all about anyone would be a perfectly normal check of employment and credit records, before establishing a line of credit for a new customer. In the event that the applicant was a St. Marks citizen or resident, one of my staff would seek confirmation of the contents of the credit application. I expect that must be what you are referring to.”

“And would that search for information include attempting to download applications for permission to purchase a residence on St. Marks?”

“It might. Since the credit bureau on St. Marks is fairly limited in its operation, my staff might look for other sources to confirm the address and credit-worthiness of an applicant. The ownership of property is always desirable when we are extending credit to a new customer.”

“And do you have signed applications for credit from those three gentlemen?”

“All our transactions with our customers and with applicants are conducted online, so we don’t have paper records.”

“But you could produce printouts of online applications from Mr. Pemberton and Mr. Weatherby?”

“I’m afraid that our company policies prevent the disclosure of any information about any of our customers or applicants, Colonel. The home office was made aware of our policies and procedures when our business was first established in St. Marks, and so were the home secretary and, of course, the prime minister. Sir Winston takes a very great interest in companies wishing to do business on St. Marks.” Pepper was aware that both of these gentlemen took very great bribes, as well.

“Mr. Pepper, do you see the door immediately to your right?”

Pepper looked and found the door. “Yes, Colonel.”

“Go and open the door and look into the next room.”

“As you wish, Colonel.” Pepper got up, walked to the door and opened it. A trickle of fear ran down his bowels. The room was smaller than the office in which he had been sitting, but it was better equipped; it contained a heavy wooden chair bolted to the floor and equipped with thick leather straps for restricting the movement of whoever might sit in it.

Next to the chair was a large table on which were arrayed a variety of knives, pliers and other hardware that might be used for other than their original purpose.

On the other side of the chair, resting on two sawhorses, was a freshly constructed wooden coffin, with its lid lying on the floor next to it.

Pepper closed the door and returned to his chair.

“Now,” Colonel Croft said, “let us begin again.”

33

Lance Cabot was waiting in the director’s reception area when she arrived at work at 8 A.M. He felt awful, having been up all night, and he was anxious about this meeting.

Kate Lee regarded him closely. “Something wrong, Lance?” she asked.

“May I speak with you in your office, Director?”

“Of course; come in.” She led the way into her inner office and hung her coat in a closet. “Have a seat.” She waved him toward her desk.

Lance took a chair across the desk from her, noting the difference from other meetings, when they sat in the more informal cluster of sofas and chairs across the room. “Sometime yesterday, probably in the afternoon, Bill Pepper was taken from his office by the police on St. Marks. Later in the day, police also took his wife, who is also our operative, from their home.”

“Is there anything in either Bill’s office or home that might compromise his situation?”

“I very much doubt it; he would have followed procedure.”

“Where is he now?”

“Apparently, still in the Markstown jail. The legendary Colonel Croft is also there, and I think we must presume that he has questioned or is questioning Bill and Annie.”

“And, as I recall, his interrogation techniques were learned and refined in latter-day Haiti.”

“That is correct.”

“Do we know the reason for their detention?”

“Not yet. We were fortunate that our man in the embassy there was also the duty officer last night, so we have not yet involved the ambassador.” He glanced at his watch. “That will become necessary later this morning.”

“Do we know if Colonel Croft has made any connection between Pepper and Holly Barker’s group?”

“No, but I very much doubt it.”

“I should have thought that Colonel Croft’s interrogation practices might have produced that information by now.”

“Jim Tiptree, the Agency man at the embassy, first telephoned Colonel Croft, then visited the jail, demanding to see him. He is still there, waiting. I think his presence might have had a dampening effect on the colonel’s urges.”

“You must have some idea why the Peppers were detained. What was Bill’s most recent assignment? From you, I mean; not from Hugh English.”

“He was to go into the St. Marks government computers and get copies of the applications to purchase a residence of three men we suspect of possibly being Teddy Fay-Robertson, Pemberton and Weatherby.”

“You suspect three men of being Teddy?”

“Possibly.”

“As I recall, Bill has made St. Marks government computers his playground over the past few months. How would he get caught now?”

“Croft has been working at upgrading all of St. Marks’s security procedures. At some point, he would turn his attention to computer security, and we may be at that point.”